Eight Days
by LlibRephic
Summary: The Junior World Leader's conference hosts teens who want to try their hand at being a leader. Matthew Williams was chosen as one of the Canadian representatives to travel to Belgium. While there, he meets an energetic American, a flirty Frenchman, and a friendly Cuban. But when a mysterious Prussian takes a liking to him he has no idea what to do. /PruCan, yaoi, fluff, Human!AU/
1. Day One

**A/N: This is just an idea I had while trying to fall asleep and I originally was thinking of making it with OCs or something but I decided on PruCan instead. Anyways, review please and DM if you have any thoughts on it. I'll do my best to update weekly but the Parcc test is horrible and I have track four days a week with dance on the fifth. Enjoy!**

* * *

The Junior World Leader's Conference was a place where teenagers from around the world would go to try their hand at being an international leader. Every year, each country would send two girls and two boys to Belgium to interact with kids from other countries and get a feel for being a politician or peacemaker. It was a huge honor for any kid to get to go, and this year, Matthew Williams got picked to be one of the Canadian representatives.

* * *

 **Day 1: 208 Hours to Departure**

Belgium's Liege Airport was huge. People bustled about from every place imaginable. Matthew stood outside of the gate more scared than he had ever been in his life. He was from a relatively small town in Canada, so he had never seen this many people in his life. It was exhilarating. One of the other Canadian representatives nudged him along and Matthew followed the other teenagers to the luggage pickup. He racked his brain trying to remember what his suitcase looked like.

It was black, he thought, and it had a silver handle and oh! There it was. Matthew raced to grab his heavy suitcase before the carousel carried it off again. He reached out to grab the bag when it was suddenly pulled out of his reach. A dark skinned hand pulled out the suitcase and started to take it away. "H-Hey, wait!" Matthew raced after the boy that couldn't have been much older than him. "T-That's my…" Mathew trailed off as he finally stood face to face with the man. He had dark, frizzy hair and was smoking a cigar. The man's charcoal eyes seemed to pierce into the boy before him as he slowly looked Matthew over.

"What do you want, boy?" The man asked. Matthew almost seemed to have lost his voice. What was he supposed to say?

"Um, sir, uh, I think that's my suitcase, actually." The blonde rubbed the back of his neck and stared at his shoes. The man- no wait-boy standing above him let out a hearty laugh that could've been heard across the terminal.

"Is that all? Here. Take it." The boy handed the black bag over to Matthew but before he could mutter out a thanks, the man started to talk again. "You an American? You look like it but you seem much tamer. Man, I hate Americans. Always so loud and extravagant. Full of themselves, if you ask me." Matthew figeted nervously and just sort of nodded along. Sensing the boy's uncomfort, the raven -haired teen tried to lighten up the mood. "So um, you here for the Leader's Conference?"

Matthew picked up his head and nodded. "I'm actually one of the Canadian representatives." He laughed a bit as he saw the other boy's face shift.

"Oh! I get it now. You sure don't act like an American. I'm a Cuban rep." The Cuban stuck out his hand towards the Canadian and Matthew took it, giving it a firm shake. "The name's Ericemdo." Ericemdo's hands were rough and well-worn but they were warm and seemed almost welcoming.

"I'm Matthew Williams." He confirmed with a bright smile. It was good that he was making friends early on. If he didn't do it now, he wasn't sure he ever would.

"Well, Matthew," The Cuban boy said, "You better get off to your group before they leave you behind. I'll see you around." - gave Matthew a strong pat on the back before walking off to join the other Cuban representatives.

Matthew stumbled along through the airport, struggling to catch up with his group that seemed to have forgotten him. The Canadians took a cab to the hotel where the teens stayed before one of them pulled out a paper explaining their housing arrangements. They would be divided into four groups and then assigned to hotel rooms by geographical location. Not being able to understand the instructions very well, Matthew just pulled out the card with his room number and key before splitting off.

The entire hotel was like a gleaming palace. The floors shined and ornate chandeliers glimmered overhead. Matthew had no idea how many stories were in the hotel, but there had to be at least fifteen. In the center of the building was a grand atrium. Lush plants lined the walls and a skylight cast mystical rays of light upon the polished tiles. The young boy gaped at the sight. He had no idea places like this even existed. It was beautiful.

Matthew had grown up in a little town that probably wasn't even on the map. His parents had sheltered him so he hadn't traveled much at all. Without many friends, Matthew was left to read and do schoolwork all on his own. He had a standing 4.0 GPA ever since middle school and he was happy with it. But when he heard that he was nominated for the Junior World Leader's Conference, he couldn't hold back. It was an essay contest from which two boys and two girls would be picked even though thousands had been nominated. Matthew stayed up night after night refining and rephrasing everything to get it just right. The day that he received the letter saying he was chosen was probably the best day of his life.

His parents didn't want him to go through with the trip though. Ever since he was born, his parents seemed to have the idea that their son was just going to stay at home and run the family bakery with them. But ever since he was born, Matthew knew that he was destined for bigger things. And this trip was exactly what he needed to prove it.

The room where Matthew was bunked was just as elegant and beautiful as the rest of the building. There were two twin beds each with pristine white sheets and fluffy pillows and one rickety looking rollaway bed. No one had come to claim the room yet, so Matthew set his things down on the bed nearest the window and proceeded to explore the room. There was a small nightstand in between the beds, a wooden desk with a rolling chair, a small coffee maker, a shower/bathtub, a sink, toilet, and a flat screen television.

Matthew was about to sit down on his bed when the door suddenly burst open. A man with sandy blonde hair and golden skin came in, dragging an over-packed suitcase behind him. He had a blue hoodie and headphones on and seemed oblivious to the fact that anyone else was in the room with him. The man danced around a bit before throwing his suitcase onto the other bed with a loud thump. Matthew could hear a bit of the music blasting though the headphones but couldn't quite remember the name of the artist.

The boy pulled his headphones down around his neck. Matthew's face lit up as he remembered it was Michael Jackson. "Ah, geez I gotta take a piss." The louder man exclaimed walking off to the bathroom and leaving Matthew to wince a bit at the vulgar language. He was starting to have second guesses about the trip.

Before the other man could even exit the bathroom, a boy with cinnamon-colored skin poked his head through the open door. He looked a bit confused so Matthew gave him a little wave and a smile. The boy managed a weak little smile in return before walking into the room and sighing in annoyance. "Of course. Leave the rolling bed to the Mexican."

Matthew stuttered a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want this bed? I can move-"

"No, no." The Mexican cut him off. "It's fine." He gave another little sigh and ran his hand through his short charcoal locks before introducing himself in what seemed like a practiced and routine manner. "My name is Mariano and I am the Mexican representative."

"Hi, Mariano," Matthew smiled. "I'm Matthew and I'm the Canadian."

"Canadian." Mariano repeated. "Oh great, that means-" Before the boy could finish, the other boy came trotting out of the bathroom.

"Hello, Belgium! It is I, the American rep! Haha." The American flashed a prize-winning smile and looked at the other two through his rectangular glasses. "My name is Alfred F. Jones and now that I'm here, you're all free to have the best time of your little lives." Alfred took each of their hands and shook them roughly.

Mariano rolled his eyes and walked off to where he set his stuff down. He pulled off the sweatshirt he was wearing and stuffed it into his backpack. "Well, a Canadian, an American and a Mexican. I suppose that means we're one of the North American rooms." Matthew nodded his head in agreement. He couldn't quite understand the Mexican boy, but he supposed it was just because they barely knew each other.

The American still had had music blaring through his headphones and he started singing along with it. "You've been hit by, you've been struck by, a smooth criminal." Alfred sang before doing what Matthew recognized as moonwalking. Mariano sighed in annoyance. He pocketed a pack of cigarettes before walking out the hotel room door.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" Matthew asked, following the boy out.

"I need a smoke." He replied. Matthew reeled back a little bit, never having met a smoker before.

"Y-You know that's really bad for you, right?"

Mariano looked offended. "Of course I do, I'm not an idiot. But staying in a room with that American is bad for my entire being." The brown-skinned boy walked off, leaving Matthew in the hallway. He turned around to go back into the room.

Alfred sat down on the bed with mock exasperation. "Ugh, what's his problem? Matthew didn't want to be rude to someone he just met so he just shrugged and sat down on the other bed. "Hey." Alfred turned his attention towards the Canadian. "I heard there's a buffet downstairs. Wanna come?"

Matthew shook his head. "I'm not very hungry." In all honesty, he was starving. But he had had enough excitement for one day.

"Suit yourself." Alfred said, sliding his headphones back on and heading downstairs.

Matthew half considered going downstairs just to sit in that atrium with all of the plants. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that if he never worked up the nerve to go out and talk to people, he was never going to make it in life. Nevertheless, he sat down and pulled out his iPhone, texting his parents, telling them he made it safely, and checking his email. Nothing. He flopped back onto the plush cushions and hoped that tomorrow was going to be a better day. He had eight days to have the time of his life.

* * *

 **A/N: Whoo, that was a long chapter! I know Gil wasn't in this first chapter, but he will be in the next one. Like I said before, I'll do my best to update weekly but I'm horrible at being consistent. This story will be available on Wattpad under the same title if you'd prefer to read it there. Review or DM me and follow!**


	2. Day Two

**A/N: Wow! It's been up for a week and I've already gotten some replies and plenty of views! Thank you so much. Enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

 **Day 2: 194 Hours to Departure**

Matthew woke up the next morning to a knock on the door. It took him a minute to take in his surroundings and remember where he was. The American in the bed next to him snored loudly, while the Mexican rolled over and mumbled something. Matthew stood up, putting on his glasses before walking to the door. When he answered it, one of the other Canadian representatives stood before him, fully dressed and ready. Was everyone else supposed to be up this early?

"Here's your schedule." The Canadian boy said, handing Matthew a folded piece of paper. "And here are your shirts." The boy walked off, leaving Matthew confused. He looked at the garments in his hand. The boy had given him two shirts, each adorning the Canadian flag. Not understanding any more than he did before, he read over the piece of paper.

 _Welcome, represenatatives to your first day at the Junior World Leader's Conference!_

 _You and the reps you are roomed with will be part of one of four teams during the conference. You will be performing most of your activities for the week with this team. You will meet the rest of your team today at the convention center across the street. You are required to wear your flag shirts only on the first day, but you can wear anything of your choice for the remaining days. On the last day, thre will be a formal dance to which you are asked to wear something nice. For the rest of your days, the schedule is posted below._

The schedule for the week seemed pretty straightforward. Matthew was about to head back into his room when he noticed two similar piles on the floor. One had American flag shirts and one had Mexican flag shirts. Apparently, the other boys' representatives hadn't bothered to wake them up. Matthew took the other shirts into his arms and brought them inside.

At that point, Mariano was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What are those?" He questioned. Matthew jumped at the volume of his voice. He shot a worried glance at the American boy, but was relieved to see that Alfred was still sleeping soundly.

"They're shirts." Matthew replied. The two spoke in choppy sentences, niether of them feeling very awake at this hour in the morning. He handed Mariano's shirts to him and walked over to his suitcase to pull out a pair of blue jeans. He took his clothes and headed into the bathroom. The cold water of the shower woke Matthew up, and he became fully aware of the day ahead. He had no idea how many nations were being represented, and knew there was going to be tons of people there.

Matthew felt nerves overcome him. There was going to be _hundreds_ of people there. People he had never even met. _Calm down, Matthew._ He told himself. _This is what I wanted. I'm sure it will be fun, and plus, I already know Alfred, Mariano, and Ericemdo. I'll be fine._ He took a few deep breaths and stepped out of the shower, shutting off the water. Matthew pulled on the blue jeans and Canadian flag shirt, giving himself a once-over in the mirror before carefully combing his hair. His golden locks fell just past his ears, except for the one stubborn curl that stuck up in the front. _Well, here we go._

Matthew walked out of the bathroom and nearly hit his head on the wall when he saw the other two boys changing their clothes. He spun around so quickly he left a silhouette behind, and almost crashed into the door frame trying not to look at the boys. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

"No worries, dude." Alfred told him with a grin. "We're all dudes here." The American seemed strangely comfortable with changing in front of two guys he'd barely just met.

Mariano shrugged. "I can't really argue with him." He pulled on his shirt and looked over to the full size mirror, messing up his hair to perfection.

Matthew just sighed. This was going to be more interesting than he had originally expected.

The boys decided to grab breakfast together before heading out to the convention center. At the doors, they were greeted by an Asian-looking man with brown hair and glasses. "Room number please?" The man asked.

Matthew answered first. "401." The man looked through a stack of papers before speaking again.

"Ah, yes. You boys will be on team 3 in the room to left upstairs. You are encouraged not to speak in your native language. The next hour or so will be a meet-and-greet with the other members of your team. Have fun!" The man waved them off and they headed for the escalators.

Alfred insisted on riding up on the handrail. Matthew and Mariano just stared and stepped on a decent space after him. Just in case. They rode up in silence, taking in the exquisiteness of the convention center. Every new thing Matthew saw on this trip was just more and more amazing. Skylights lit up the large atrium and gold trimmings accented the red walls. The carpet was so plush, that Matthew's feet seemed to sink into it when he arrived on the second floor.

A large room was reserved for the teens to interact with each other. The cheerful banter of teenagers from everywhere greeted Matthew as he walked in. He was immediately overwhelmed. Where to begin? There were so many people from so many nations, he had no idea what to do. On the far side of the room, there was a table set up with international refreshments, but no one seemed to be over there. Everyone in the room already seemed to be talking to someone else, and Matthew felt lost on his own. He took a few steps into the room a, not wanting to block the doorway, and leaned against the wall.

Was this trip really the right decision? All of Matthew's life he had felt like he was trapped. Trapped in an endless cycle of the same thing day after day. School, homework, chores. School, homework, chores. No adventure whatsoever. But now, he just felt suffocated. In his mind, the people in the room dissolved into smoke and filled his senses, clouded his head. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. The smoke filled his nose and mouth and lungs. The smoke took over his entire body. The buzz of conversation in the room was deafening. Matthew pounded on his chest and coughed, finally taking a breath and watching as the room came back into focus.

That was strange. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. No one seemed to have noticed his little panic attack, so Matthew just pretended that nothing had happened and took a few more deep breaths before walking over to the refreshments table to see what they had. There was choices from all over the world. Brands and foods that he'd never even heard of. In the end, he ended up setting for a plain bottle of water from what appeared to be Portugal. He took a drink and walked back over to where he was leaning against the wall.

Matthew tried thinking of the things that calmed him down. Forests, coffee, the first snow of winter. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice when an ashen-haired man appeared by his side.

" _Est-ce un miroir dans votre poche? Parce que je peux me voir dans votre pantalon_ ." The albino man said, flirtingly. Matthew nearly jumped out of his skin.

"W-What?" His face flushed. He turned to the boy next to him. He was a few inches shorter than him and had short, grayish hair. His skin was very pale, and he was wearing the shirt of a flag Matthew didn't recognize. But the thing that stood out most were his eyes. They were bright red, with light eyelashes that just made them stand out more.

Suddenly the albino's face turned red and he swore. "Uh..." The boy gave Matthew a nervous smile and held up his finger before rushing off to a group of other boys that were watching him. Matthew tried to listen to their conversation while his mid raced. The albino seemed to be shouting at the other two boys which Matthew recognized as the French and Spanish reps.

"I told you he doesn't speak French, Francis!" The boy yelled. This made Matthew all the more confused. Was this boy flirting with him? Or, trying to? He could feel his face heat up as the boys confided in each other until the Spanish rep pushed the boy back in his direction.

The boy walked over, a little less, confidently, this time. He gave Matthew a little smile and tried his best to look sexy. "Um, _cuando Dios invento la belleza, que se inspiro en usted_."

Matthew had no idea what he said. "Um," He cleared his throat. "I actually do speak French."

The other boy's face flushed once again, and he laughed. "Um, _ne vousderange si on parle en anglais a la place, mon francais est horrible_." Matthew smiled and nodded.

"Hi my name is Matthew." He stuck out his hand. "I'm the Canadian representative for this team." The other boy took his hand shook it lightly.

"I"m Gilbert. The Prussian rep. Well, technically, I'm German, but the organization likes to have some people of Prussian descent at the Conference for historical purposes." Gilbert pulled Matthew's arm down until his mouth was level with the other's ear. "And by the way, Matthew," The Prussian whispered. "I meant what I said earlier." Gilbert pulled Matthew along in the direction of his friends, leaving him to blush furiously.

"Matthew, this is Francis and Antonio. The French and Spanish reps. This is Matthew. The Canadian." Matthew gave a nod to the other boys that looked a bit older than him.

" _Bonjour,_ Matthew." Francis greeted. "I can tell from the look on your face that Gilbert's little pick up line did it's job, no?" Matthew turned red once again and briefly wondered how much he would be blushing during this week. Gilbert muttered something in German to Francis that made him back off.

"I haven't seen you before, are you new?" Antonio asked. Matthew nodded, slightly confused.

"Isn't everyone here new?" Matthew asked. Antonio shook his head.

"Once you get accepted, it's pretty easy to get accepted again so most of us have been here a couple of years in a row." Matthew felt even more worried than before. If everyone had been there for a few years, everyone would have already made friends and gotten into groups, and there would be no one left to be friends with. After being in high school for a couple years, he knew how hard it was to get into new groups once everyone had separated into their cliques. Antonio must have seen the look of worry that crossed his face, because he flashed Matthew a bright grin. "Don't worry amigo, we'll take you in."

Matthew sighed in relief. At least he would have someone to be with for the week. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. These boys looked friendly enough, and with any luck he would have fun. He had eight days to get out of his comfort zone for once and live a little.

* * *

Translations:

 _Est-ce un miroir dans votre poche? Parce que je peux me voir dans votre pantalon._ (French) Is that a mirror in your pocket? Because I can see myself in your pants.

 _Cuando Dios invento la belleza, que se inspiro en usted._ (Spanish) When God created beauty, he was inspired by you.

 _Ne vous derange si on parle en anglais? Mon francais est horrible._ (French) Do you mind if we speak in English? My French is terrible.

 _Bonjour._ (French) Hello

* * *

 **A/N: Please excuse my French (literally). My Spanish is decent, but I do not speak French so I have to rely on Google translate and websites offering French pick up lines. Correct me if needed. Review and follow!**


	3. Day Two PtII

**A/N: Please excuse my absolute lack of information about anything Belgian including food and wildlife.**

* * *

 **Day 2: 188 Hours to Departure**

The image of that man was seared into Matthew's mind. His skin as white as snow and his hair the color of ash that must've come from the fire in his eyes. The way he strode confidently into his life, stumbling over a French pickup line. It was crazy. Matthew sat at the cafe with Alfred and Mariano, eating a some sort of sandwich that he'd never seen before in his life. It was on toasted bread that gave off a delightful crunching sound whenever he bit into it and the cheese melted in his mouth. He looked at the other boys sitting with him. Mariano was glued to his phone, smiling as he texted someone. Alfred was trying desperately to read the texts over his shoulder.

The American tried to be stealthy, but ultimately failed. He finally got a glimpse of the text messages when he slumped back into his chair. "They're in Spanish." Alfred mumbled dejectedly. Mariano realized Alfred was trying to read his texts, and immediately shut off his phone, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.

"You can't read it? I thought all Americans picked Spanish as their second language." Mariano said. He gave Alfred a suspicious glance before realizing that his privacy wasn't in danger and pulling out his phone again.

Alfred shook his head. "My second language is Latin." This surprised Matthew and the American seemed proud of himself. "They say Latin's a dead language but when you're fluent in it, you can speak it really fast and sound all Satanic and shit." He tipped his chair back so that it was leaning on its back two legs. Matthew sighed, understanding. For a second, he thought that Alfred was planning to go to medical school or something.

Matthew drifted off into his thoughts again. No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept dragging him back to Gilbert. Everything about the boy was refreshing. He didn't waste any time at all. He grabbed Matthew by the wrist and proceeded to introduce him to all of the representatives he knew, which was unsurprisingly a lot. There was his brother, the German, the Italians who were each attached to Ludwig and Antonio. There were the fierce Hungarian girl who looked about ready to kill Gilbert, the well-dressed Austrian, Roderich and the list went on and on. Matthew briefly wondered if he was going to be able to remember all of their names.

Suddenly, a pair of bright red eyes met his and brought him back into focus. Across the convention center stood Gilbert, Antonio and Francis, all laughing about something. Gilbert gave him a little wave, causing Matthew to blush a bit and wave back. "Whoa, dude, is that Gilbert Beldischmidt?" Alfred asked enthusiastically. This caught Mariano's attention.

"Oh, man, it's the entire BTT over there!" Mariano said, maybe a bit too loudly.

"The what?" Matthew asked. Gilbert started to walk out the doors and gave Matthew a big goodbye wave. He smiled.

Alfred and Mariano shot a look at each other. "The Bad Touch Trio, notorious for being the biggest players to ever grace the conference."

"Oh, I didn't know that. I just met Gilbert this morning. He introduced me to everyone." He felt like an idiot now. Was befriending Gilbert a mistake? He took a sip of the ice water in front of him, hoping to cool down the blush on his face.  
Mariano clutched his stomach, dying with laughter. "Oh my god, haha! You got the Bad Touch Trio serving as your welcoming committee! I'm surprised that one of them hasn't made a move on you yet." Matthew choked on his water and started coughing while Mariano continued to laugh. His face became twice as red as before and he pretended to wipe his mouth with a napkin to try and hide it. Alfred looked over at him suspiciously. Matthew tried to change the subject, pulling out the schedule and pointing out which rooms they were supposed to head to next to see the guest speaker.

He still couldn't quite shake the feeling of unease sitting in the pit of his stomach. Matthew was at a huge disadvantage, not knowing a thing about the people that came to the conference. Were Gilbert and his friends really that bad? Gilbert did try to use a pick up line on him first thing but there was something different in his eyes that only came out when he looked at Matthew. He shook his head, reminding himself that everything would be okay.

* * *

The guest speaker had turned out to be incredibly boring and Matthew left the convention center feeling drowsy and out of it. He looked around at the paved sidewalks and perfectly groomed trees. Everything in Belgium seemed so...beautiful. He walked along side Alfred and Mariano who talked about a bar downtown that didn't card. Apparently, all of the reps loved to frequent the bar during the conference. Matthew had never seen a bar, much less been into one. The only experience he ever had with alcohol was when he accidentally got invited to a party by one of the girls in his class.

He remembered stepping into the place and not knowing at all what was going on. He was just sixteen then, but the girl's older brother had bought all kinds of booze and the house reeked of what was presumably pot smoke. Matthew was brought into the house by some girl that seemed to want him out of his clothes more than anything, but when he wouldn't go along with her, she just shoved a beer bottle into his hand and walked off. He took a sniff of the stuff, which smelled terrible, but he tried it anyway. In the end, he ended up taking a tiny sip and spitting it out before setting the bottle down and leaving the party. He hadn't been invited to a single party since then.

He was about to walk off to the hotel with Alfred and Mariano when suddenly the world went dark and a hand clasped over his mouth. Matthew kicked backwards and tried to scream for help but nothing seemed to stop his attacker. He was dragged off in the opposite direction of his roommates and he wondered if he was ever going to see his parents again. Suddenly he was gently set down and the world came into view again. Matthew spun around, ready to fight or flee, but when he turned around it was only Gilbert, a smirk steadily growing across his face.

"Gilbert, what the hell!?" Matthew shouted out before clasping his hands over his mouth. Was that seriously the first cuss word he'd ever used. Gilbert just laughed. Matthew looked around, realizing he was no longer on the paved cleanness of the side walk. The forest surrounded him with the smell of pine and the sound of little birds and Matthew finally felt at ease. This felt like home. "W-Where are we?" He briefly remembered a path leading off the side around the convention center and he wondered if this is where it lead.

Gilbert shrugged. "The forest. Not sure. I lost the path a while ago. You kick pretty hard, you know that?" His laugh rung in Matthew's ears again. There was something about that sound that just made him want to hear more of it. "Come on!" Gilbert ran off into the trees, leaving Matthew with no choice but to run after him.

"Where are we going?" He yelled.

"I don't know!" Gilbert yelled back, laughing manically.

The feel of the forest filled Matthew to the brim and gave him the rush of being back in his element. Matthew jumped over tree roots and ducked underneath low-hanging branches. Suddenly, he felt energy pulsing through him as his feet hit the earthen ground faster and faster, trying to catch up with Gilbert. He wove through the trees with ease and took a sharp right before seeming to disappear. Matthew stopped in his tracks, looking around him desperately. A whistle sounded out from the tree above him. Gilbert crouched on a tree branch, a mischievous glint in his crimson eyes. He reached a hand out towards Matthew.

The blonde yelped as he was suddenly pulled up and surrounded by pale arms. "Careful there." The Prussian warned. Matthew giggled a little bit, giddy with the playfulness he never got to experience as a child. The leaves of the weeping willow surrounded them and shaded them from the sun. Matthew sat back and cast a little glimpse over at Gilbert who was smiling ear to ear. A little yellow bird fluttered around him and sat on his shoulder. "Ah, yes! Gilbird has returned!"

Matthew tilted his head to the side in question. "Gilbird is my little bird friend that manages to find me every year I come." Gilbert explained. Gilbird flew off of his shoulder and landed atop Matthew's head, making him freeze up. "Ah look! You are the chosen one Matthew! Don't go anywhere." The albino boy climbed a bit higher into the tree, leaving Matthew to sit and dwell over the fluttering feeling in his heart. Everything Gilbert did seemed to stir him up into a blushing mess of a boy. Gilbert returned, holding something behind his back. "Close your eyes Mattie."

The nickname made Matthew blush furiously, but he still dip what Gilbert said. He felt the boy move closer and place something atop his head. "Now open!" Matthew's eyelashes fluttered open and he tilted his head trying to get a look at what Gilbert did. "Wait, hold still." Gilbert pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the Canadian. He turned the screen towards Matthew and he felt his face heat up. Gilbert had fashioned an intricate little crown of leaves and placed it over his golden locks, surrounding Gilbird.

Gilbert sat down across from Matthew and smiled at the boy. What was wrong with him? He couldn't stop smiling. "Gilbird chose you, so I now declare you my new little Birdie." His ruby eyes peered into the violet ones across from him. Gilbert leaned closer to the boy who's heart could almost be heard beating out of his chest. Matthew shook with...something. What was it? Anticipation Fear? _Excitement?_ He had no idea what the Prussian was going to do and when he leaned in, Matthew's heart nearly stopped. Gilbert took Matthew's chin in his fingers, and his face stopped mere centimeters from the other's face.

"Can I...kiss you?" Gilbert whispered breathily. His mind was clouded with something he'd never felt before.

Matthew couldn't think. Wouldn't think. He knew it would ruin the moment. "Yeah." He whispered back. Without another hesitation, Gilbert leaned in and pressed his lips against Matt's. Fireworks lit up between them. Suddenly, the outside world seemed to cease to exist. It was beautiful and gentle and it was over too soon. Gilbert slowly pulled back, keeping his hand on the back of Matthew's neck to keep him close.

"That was my first kiss." Matthew spoke, dazzled by everything that had just overcome him.

Gilbert looked at Matthew through lidded eyes. God, he had never seen anyone more beautiful. "How about we go for a second?" Matthew nodded and the two connected once again, melting into one another. Matthew wrapped his hands around the albino's neck and Gilbert trailed his hands up and down the other's back slowly.

What started out small slowly grew bigger and more passionate. The two were lost in each other, and nothing else mattered. Gilbert bit down on Matthew's bottom lip and Matthew allowed him in, deepening the kiss. Matthew's back was pressed up against the rough tree bark, Gilbert's hands on either side of him. Gilbert's lips trailed down the other boy's soft skin. Over his jawbone, down his neck. He bit into the skin and kissed it tenderly as he went. Matthew was a blushing, moaning mess. "G-Gil, oh~" He let out little sounds as Gilbert trailed hickeys down to his collarbone.

"Mm, Mattie. You're so beautiful." Gilbert returned to his lips and kissed him deeply, only stopping to moan out his name. "Matthew, oh. Matthew."

"MATTHEW!" Suddenly a voice cried out that wasn't his or Mattie's. The boys stopped what they were doing to look over where the voice came from.

"It's Alfred."

"It's the American." The two whispered in unison.

"MAAATHEW?! YOU OUT HERE, DUDE?!" Alfred shouted. Matthew looked at the other, worry on his face while Gilbert just smirked.

"Gil, what're you gonna-" Gilbert cut him off, holding a finger to his lips and jumping out of the tree. Alfred spun around to space the Prussian.

"Gilbert?" Alfred said, squinting his eyes.

Gilbert smirked wildly, showing off his extra-sharp k-nines. He pointed up towards the tree where Matt still stayed. "You know, your friend up there's a really good kisser."

"Wha-" Alfred didn't have any time to process what the boy said, because right after he distracted Alfred, he took off, running into the woods at breakneck speed.

Alfred walked around to the weeping willow that Gilbert had pointed at. Up in the branches sat Matthew, covering the blush on his face. "Matthew, dude, what're you doing up there?" Matthew peeked through his fingers. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't find the words. "Just- nevermind. Just come down here, bro." The Canadian nodded, and carefully jumped out of the tree. Alfred eyed him over, noticing the purple marks beginning to form on his neck. He gave Matt a skeptical look before sighing and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, I left Mariano waiting. The two boys walked off towards what Matthew guessed was the path back to the convention center.

* * *

Gilbert perched in a high-hanging branch, watching Alfred and Matthew walk off. He had come to a final decision. There was no way he was going to give up this easily. And he had seven days to win over the love of his life.

* * *

 **A/N: Should I write some chapters focusing on Gil? If you hadn't figured it out already, this fic isn't going to be eight chapters long. I'm planning on doing multiple chapters for each day, so I really don't have a set number yet. Review, favorite and follow for more PruCan!**


	4. Day Three

**A/N: I'm sorry for missing what, like three update days but I did warn you guys about how terrible I am at being consistent. I have some French stuff in here, so imma just put the translations next to them so ya'll don't have to go all the way to the bottom because I know firsthand how annoying that is. Anywayssss...review, follow, and enjoy!**

 **Day 3: 168 Hours to Departure**

When Matthew woke up, he found two topaz blue eyes staring at him. Alfred sat on the bed opposite him and looked at him as if he was trying to dissect him with his eyes. Noticing that the Canadian was awake, he turned away, trying to play it off as watching television. Matthew inhaled deeply, still not used to the strange smell of the hotel room. The air always carried a twinge of furniture polish and new wood. He sat up in the bed and grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand, gathering his bearings. The clock read 8:07 and Matthew wondered if the ever-hungry American had eaten yet.

Alfred was fully dressed already, perched on the edge of the bed. "Morning, Mattie." Matthew flinched at the sound of the nickname originally given to him by Gilbert. _Oh, right._ Gilbert. The thought of the boy brought Matthew to life. The memories of last night came flooding back in. The trip through the forest, the tree, _the kissing._ It had been the most amazing afternoon of his life, until it was interrupted by Alfred. He had hardly spoken after coming down from the tree and walking back to the hotel with Alfred. They had eaten at the little restaurant that sat next door and Mathew tried to ignore the American's accusing glances.

Now that the boy once again sat before him, Matthew was lost. He couldn't stay silent forever. "Good morning." He responded weakly. He finally realized the absence of another boy's presence. "Hey, where's Mariano?"

Alfred shrugged, turning towards him. "He was up before I was, texting someone. Around seven he just got up and left, so he could be anywhere really. Do you know what we're supposed to do today?"

Matthew nodded and stood up, walking over to where he had placed the schedule. "It says that today is mostly lectures from different leaders." Alfred groaned, flopping back onto the bed.

"I don't remember it being this BORING the past few years." He rubbed his hands across his face and took off his glasses. Matthew shrugged and tried to fold up Mariano's roll away bed without moving any of his stuff. With his path cleared, he pulled out a white t-shirt and jeans from his bag and headed to get changed.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Alfred was already gone. Matthew looked at his watch and decided that he'd have to skip breakfast this morning if he was going to make it on time. He threw on some shoes and raced out the door.

The second lecture Matthew sat through was extremely boring. Other teens throughout the room were actively taking notes and hanging on the speaker's every last word, but Matthew just couldn't get into the deep and complicated rules of Belgium's foreign policy.

His mind drifted off and found it's way to the boy that wouldn't leave his mind. The boy with the porcelain skin and fiery eyes. Gilbert was everything Matthew never had. Everything Matthew always needed. The unstoppable spirit that ran through him drew in Matthew and swallowed him up. It was amazing, to say the least. He hadn't spent more than a day with the boy, though. Who was to say that his feelings were really genuine? How was Matthew supposed to know what love is? For all he knew, Gilbert was going to be one little, forgettable fling that disappeared into the ocean of his existence.

The thought of losing Gilbert scared Matthew. He suddenly realized that whatever happened here was going to end in only a few days. There was always a chance he could be chosen to go to the conference again next year, but who knows if Gilbert would be? Any in-person interaction they would have would last a couple of weeks, at the most. And Matthew knew that long-distance relationships rarely worked out. But they could make it work, couldn't they? _Couldn't they?_

Matthew nearly jumped out of his chair when he felt a tap on his shoulder. A girl with dark hair and tan skin stood next to him with a concerned look on her face. Matthew realized that his face showed a perfect reflection of the thoughts running through his head. His brows were tilted upwards and his eyes screamed with worry. Matthew tried to compose himself and looked back at the girl.

"Um," She said. "The lecture's over." While Matthew was wrapped up in his thoughts, everyone had gotten up and left.

Matthew stood up and ran his hands through his hair. "Thank you so much. I'm not sure what happened. I must've just gotten wrapped up in my thoughts."

"That's okay." The girl said with a smile. She stuck out her hand. "My name's Victoria."

Matthew shook her hand and smiled. "I'm Matthew. I guess we'd better get off to the next conference, eh? I'm heading to room 203 next."

Victoria smiled brightly. "That's great! I'm going there too." The girl set off towards the conference room and motioned for Matthew to come with her. He was quick to follow along and match strides with her as they walked down the carpeted hallways. "Oh, and by the way, are you alright? Whatever you were thinking about seemed to have you really worried there."

Matthew stared at his footsteps. "Um, well, it's just boy trouble I guess."

Victoria looked a little put-off at first before smiling and nodding. "I get it. Hey, I have a friend that might be able to help you. He's really good at all of that sort of romance-y stuff. I can show you to him at lunch today, if you want." Matthew brought his head up and nodded, smiling.

"That'd be great. Thank you, Victoria."

The next few lectures flew by and Matthew found himself in the busy cafe next to the convention center. Victoria stood next to him, her amber eyes flicking back and forth between her phone and the door. Curiosity getting the best of him, he tried to read the French texts off of the screen she was holding, but all he was able to see was the contact name which was confusingly labeled "Papa". Victoria suddenly shut her phone off and Matthew backpedaled, wondering if she had discovered him snooping when the little bells on the front door chimed and a blonde man waltzed into the cafe. Victoria walked over to the man who took her hand and kissed it lightly. Matthew followed along but felt like he was intruding on something.

"Bonjour, Victoria," he said in thickly accented French. "Bon de vous voir enfin à nouveau." (Good to finally see you again.)

"Bonjour, Francis. Vous avez pas changé un peu."(You haven't changed a bit.) When he heard Victoria address the man, Matthew finally realized where he had seen him before. Francis was one of Gilbert's friends that he had been introduced to yesterday. When he saw the Canadian, Francis's face showed the same amount of recognition. He looked the Canadian over, as if trying to solve a complex math problem before bursting into a warm smile once again.

"Ah yes! Matthew, no? It's good to see you again." Francis shook Matthew's hand before leading the two over to an empty table. The cafe itself was in pretty good condition, the walls painted a cheerful blue and the floor tiled like a checkerboard. The legs on the metal chair made a loud screeching as Matthew pulled it from beneath the table and took a seat.

"Can I ask you a question?" Matthew asked. Francis nodded and the Canadian looked over to Victoria. "Why is your contact name 'Papa' on her phone?" Francis's cheeks took on a bit of a blush at the question, but he just laughed it off.

"It's a bit of an inside joke between Toria and I." He replied.

"Yeah," Victoria giggled. "Because Francis is the dad and Arthur is the mom-"

"Yes, yes, HAHAHA. We don't talk about that, do we?" Francis shot Victoria a nervous glance before coughing awkwardly and turning back to Matthew. Whoever Arthur was, he seemed to be such a force that he could actually make Francis blush. "So what is it that you need help with?"

Matthew did his best not to turn beet red when he thought about what was troubling him. He came to the sudden realization that even though Victoria recommended him, Francis may not have been the best choice of a person to talk to when the subject was one of his closest friends. But it was too late to turn back now. He took a deep breath. "It's Gilbert." Francis's face immediately shifted from warm and welcoming to something much more serious. It was unsettling, but he continued on. "So the other day, this thing happened-in a tree and..." Matthew looked up to see both Victoria's and Francis's eyes glued to him. This was way harder than it was supposed to be. "We kinda kissed."

His friend's faces exploded into smiles and giggling. "Ohmygosh really?" Victoria asked. Matthew nodded and scratched at the back of his neck.

Francis smiled approvingly but something else flickered in his eyes. What was it? Fear? It was gone before Matthew could pin it down and it made him more nervous than before, if that was even possible. Francis opened his mouth to say something at the exact same moment that a waitress came by and politely asked for their orders. Victoria and Francis both got some type of pastry, so Matthew decided on tea. Once the waitress left, Francis began again.

"So he kissed you in a tree?" The Frenchman asked. When someone else said it, it sounded absolutely ridiculous. "That's great! What's the problem?"

"Well, I was just thinking that whatever happens here isn't going to last longer than a week, right? Gil seems really great, but I'm worried that what we have won't last." Matthew picked at his fingernails, doing his best not to look at the other two.

Francis's eyebrows tilted upwards and he frowned. He reached across the table and put his hand on Matthew's shoulder, making him look up. "Hey, none of that matters. If I were you, I would just ride it out and enjoy whatever happens. This is one of the greatest opportunities you'll ever have in your life." From his tone of voice, Francis seemed like he was talking about Gilbert more than the conference. "Make sure you don't waste it."

Matthew's mind was so awash with emotions that he completely missed the shared nervous look between Victoria and Francis. But he was right. Matthew had six days to have the best summer romance possible.

 **A/N: I had a hard time writing this chapter so let me know if it sucks or if you want longer chapters. Review and follow for more!**


	5. Gilbert PtI

**Day XX**

* * *

Conceited, big-headed, stupid, narcissistic, slow. These were all words that people had used to describe Gilbert all his life. No one ever cared to get past the shell of cheap humor and constant laughing that encased him. All of his life, teachers commented on him, saying that he wasn't the brightest, he was just a class clown, he just wanted attention. Sure he didn't pay attention much in school and he didn't make straight A's, but that didn't mean he was stupid. His brother loved him, but even he thought the boy was irresponsible.

Early on, Gilbert decided that if the world was going to view him as a troublemaker, he was going to be one. He started hanging out with the smokers and drinkers, going out to parties every chance he got. He would vandalize school property and talk back to anyone who called him out. Eventually his brother- the stiff that he was- started to take notice and Gilbert calmed down a bit, settling on doing nothing instead of doing things that would get him arrested.

It wasn't long until he started noticing things around the school. Noticing things about the students. Gilbert had become pretty unsocial, which gave him a new perspective on the drama that played out. There were some people that got away with everything, whether it was between friends or faculty, they were never called out on anything. Instead, less liked people would have any and all blame pushed onto them. They then would push it down onto lesser and lesser people until it ended up on innocent kids who had nothing to do with the original problem. It was a vicious pyramid of pointing fingers and the kids at the bottom were the ones who suffered the worst.

This caste system of cruelty finally got to Gilbert one day and he decided he couldn't take it anymore. He got up and defended the little freshman who was being harassed by one of the upperclassmen. The girl looked purely terrified by the snotty seniors that were speaking to her as if she had committed some horrible crime. Gilbert was able to talk the girls into backing off, but not without suffering the consequences. Not even a day later, two large boys beat the shit out of him after school for yelling at who were apparently their girlfriends. After that, Gilbert vowed to stay out of the pointless drama of high school and focus on his work.

He did his best not to be noticed, despite the fact that his albino abnormality never failed to draw some attention to him. Gilbert cut himself off and began to study more, applying for a job in a car shop once he got his grades up. It was late in his sophomore year when one of his teachers gave him a letter recommending him to go to a special Junior World Leader's Conference for the summer. Hearing about the invitation, Ludwig pushed him to enter, saying that it would be a great opportunity. Gilbert hunkered down and wrote the essay, sending it in and waiting anxiously for the return letter to arrive. It wasn't a week before Gilbert received and acceptance letter saying he was accepted at the German representative.

Belgium was beautiful during the summer. Gilbert had been out of the country before, taking occasional trips to France with his family, but Belgium was something different. The language and the food were all similar to that of Germany, but something about the place gave off an air of freedom that he had never experienced before. His first days at the conference were probably the best of his life. No one had ever heard any rumors about him there; he was free to start over and be who he really was.

Gilbert quickly made friends with the French and Spanish representatives Francis and Antonio. Their charismatic attitudes matched his perfectly and their trip was spent absorbing as much as possible from the lectures and enjoying their first legal drinks. Leaving the conference was slightly disappointing, but the boys swapped phone numbers and promised to stay in contact. During the next year, Gilbert knew he'd have to get into the conference again, so he began paying even more attention in school and focusing on getting his grades up-much to the happiness of his family.

Ludwig, seeing how much Gilbert loved the conference, applied as well and got in as one of the German representatives. Seeing his brother's acceptance letter made Gilbert deflate. If Ludwig was one of the German representatives, it was extremely unlikely that he'd be chosen too. And in the end, he wasn't. Instead, he was chosen as the Prussian rep. The letter with a black and white flag on it shocked the entire Beldishmidt family, given that Prussia was no longer a country. The letter said that they liked to chose someone to represent a dead nation each year, and since Gilbert had Prussian ancestry, he was to represent the dissolved Kingdom of Prussia.

* * *

 **Day 1: 208 Hours to Departure**

* * *

Gilbert was surprised to find two blonds in his room instead of a blond and a brunette. He expected to be roomed with Francis and Antonio as he was the year before. Before him stood a strawberry blond with reddish eyes, a shade lighter than his own, and a golden blond with piercing green eyes. The green eyed boy blinked confusedly at him before giving him a lazy smile.

"Hey, I'm Feliks." The boy said. Gilbert walked into the room and set his stuff down on the rolling bed, seeing as the other two beds were taken.

"And I'm Vlad," The red-eyed boy added with a bright smile.

"Gilbert." He said, introducing himself with a little half smile and a nod. He was about to lay back on the bed when he saw Feliks unpacking various nail polishes and dresses. Gilbert had met boys like Feliks before and didn't want to get dragged into any of his girly things. He picked up his bag and walked back out into the hallway, heading towards where Ludwig was rooming. Instead of finding Ludwig in his room, however, he was met in the hallway by an annoyed blond.

"Want to switch rooms?" Gilbert asked.

"Definitely." Ludwig nodded almost desperately, giving Gil his room key and frantically grabbing the albino's before heading off to the other room. Gilbert stared at him a little before shrugging and heading towards Ludwig's old room.

"Mon ami!" Francis shouted out the second Gilbert entered the room. Gilbert grinned widely and ran into the room, flinging himself onto Antonio's bed.

"Ah, it's so good to see you idiots again." Gilbert said teasingly. He landed on the floor with a loud thump as Antonio pushed him off the bed.

"Sooooo, have you found a girl yet?" Francis asked with a smirk, leaning over the side of the bed to see the albino on the floor. Gilbert rolled his eyes dramatically and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"No, Francis. Haven't found a girl yet. And I don't really feel like spending the whole conference looking for one either. I just wannna hang out with you guys. You're like, the only friends I have. And besides, there's not a girl on this planet who can handle my sheer awesomeness!"

Antonio laughed and pulled out the schedule. "Well, even if you're not looking for a relationship, there's a dance this year. You better find a date, 'cause Franny and I definitely will."

"Ugh, didn't I tell you I hate it when you call me that?" Francis said, flicking Antonio in the forehead.

"Yeah, but I like annoying you." Antonio fired back, balling up the paper and throwing it at Francis's retreating figure.

Meanwhile, Gilbert sat on the lush carpet thinking about what Antonio said. Girls had never really been his strong suit, though he did like to act like the biggest player of the century. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head, he'd figure that out later. After all, he had eight days to find the most awesome date imaginable.

* * *

 **Day 2: 191 Hours to Departure**

* * *

Gilbert watched his brother getting dragged around by a little Italian boy that had befriended him the minute he stepped in the door. What was his name? Something weird and Italian that he couldn't remember. The little Italian's older brother had somehow made it into the same group as them so there was two Italian reps. Strange. Gilbert had only ever been to one conference before, but this one was turning out to be much different. Beside him stood Antonio and Francis, each scoping the room for any cute girls (or boys). Antonio in particular had his eyes on the older Italian boy. Francis left him for a moment to go and chat up the English rep with ridiculously large eyebrows. The room was buzzing with energy. The flag t-shirts let Gilbert know where each of the reps were from. Despite the fact that an even number of boys and girls were chosen from each country, there were way more boys than girls in the room. _Great,_ Gilbert thought.

He noticed a Hungarian girl that was pretty cute but his spirit deflated as he saw that the Austrian rep had her attention. Gilbert was just about to forget about getting a date when he saw someone who made his breath stop. Across the room, in a red and white Canadian flag shirt, was easily the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. (And he'd seen Francis, so that was really saying something.) The blond stood with his back to the wall, watching the crowd a bit wistfully. Gilbert could feel his heart pounding. _What the fuck,_ he thought. _Guys aren't supposed to be that cute._ He stood there, staring at the boy intently. He had no idea that Francis had already gotten the Englishman's number and was standing right next to him.

"Cute, no?" Francis asked, making Gilbert nearly jump out of his skin.

" _Shit, dude._ Where did you come from?!" The albino exclaimed.

Francis laughed. "I've been here, for a few minutes. But I guess you're so in love that you didn't notice."

Gilbert sneered at the boy and turned his head away. "I am _not_ in love with the Canadian." He denied.

"I never said it was the Canadian." Francis insisted. Gilbert froze, his eyes blood-red eyes going wide. Francis smirked. "Hey, TONIO!" The Frenchman called.

"What have I done?" Gilbert quietly asked himself as his friends cornered him, badgering him for information.

"Which one was it?" Antonio questioned. As Francis pointed out the boy, Gilbert made a move to escape, but ran straight into his brother.

"What's wrong, Gilbert?" The Ludwig inquired.

"AH HA HA NOTHING." Gilbert picked himself off the ground and ran in the opposite direction, only to have Antonio catch him by the collar of his shirt.

"No way out of this, amigo." Gilbert slouched his shoulders and tried to look indifferent. "So tell us, Gil. You got a thing for that little blonde in the corner?" Despite his best efforts, a light blush grew on Gilbert's pale face.

"I don't know, do you have a thing for that Italian whose ass you've been staring at all day?" Gilbert retorted. Antonio's face flushed and Francis nodded approvingly.

"I'm taking that as a yes." The blond affirmed. "You know it's totally fine to have feelings for another boy, Gilbert."

Gilbert sighed and looked at his feet. "Yeah, okay, fine, whatever, I have "feelings" for him. But it doesn't mean anything. I mean, I haven't even talked to him."

Francis scoffed. "Well that's easy enough to change. Just go talk to him."

"Yeah, sure. And what am I supposed to say, Mr. Romantic?"

"He's Canadian, so he probably knows French. Est-ce un miroir dans votre poche? Parce que je peux me voir dans votre pantalon." Francis offered.

Gilbert's French wasn't very good, but it was good enough to understand to understand the dirty pick up line. "No way! I am NOT saying that."

"Come on, just do it." Antonio shoved him in the direction of the Canadian. Gilbert gave his friends the dirtiest look he could only to receive a thumbs-up in reply. He sighed and walked over to the boy, fidgeting nervously with his hands. The blond was even more stunning up close. His violet eyes seemed to be in another, more peaceful place. Gilbert built up a little mock-confidence, hoping it would be enough to get him through this. He plastered a smirk on his face and made sure to put a little flirty lilt into his voice. "Est-ce un miroir dans votre poche? Parce que je peux me voir dans votre pantalon."

The words seemed to make the other boy jump out of his skin. His face burned a bright red color and he coughed, choking on his water a little. "W-What?" The boy looked Gilbert straight in the eyes, and he couldn't help but blush.

"Uh..." Gilbert swore under his breath and gave the Canadian a little nervous smile before running back over to his friends. "I told you he doesn't speak French, Francis!" he accused, a bit too loudly.

"No you didn't!" Francis protested.

"I know I didn't. But it was still a disaster!" Gilbert looked back, frantically. "I messed everything up didn't I?"

"You can still fix it." Antonio promised. "Try Spanish. It is the language of love, after all." Francis gave a little disapproving glance at that but Antonio continued anyways. "Cuando Dios invento la belleza, que se inspiro en usted." It took Gilbert a minute to get the phrase right, but once Antonio seemed satisfied, he pushed Gilbert off again.

He did his best to give off an air of confidence, but he still couldn't keep a stutter from entering his speech. "Um, cuando Dios invento la belleza, que se inspiro en usted." The blond looked even more confused than before.

"Um," the other boy said. "I actually do speak French." Gilbert's face flushed yet again as he realized that the Canadian had understood everything he said earlier.

"Ha ha. Um, ne vousderange si on parle en anglais a la place, mon francais est horrible." He pleaded. Gilbert took one year of French, but he could hardly speak to this boy in English, so French was out of the question. To his delight, a cute little smile crossed the other's face and he nodded.

"Hi, my name is Matthew, and I'm the Canadian representative for this team." He shook Matthew's outstretched hand, not wanting to let go of his soft, warm palm.

"I'm Gilbert. The Prussian rep. Well, technically, I'm German, but the organization likes to have someone of Prussian descent at the Conference for historical purposes." Gilbert mentally face palmed at his rambling. He had to fix this somehow. What was he supposed to do? _Just do something, idiot!_ He yelled at himself. Without thinking, Gilbert pulled Matthew's arm down until his mouth was level with the other's ear. "And by the way, Matthew," he whispered. "I meant what I said earlier."

Matthew's face turned an almost impossible shade of red. Gilbert had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. _Great idea, Gilbert. Make the boy think you're some kind of pervert._ He covered up his internal screaming with a smile and dragged Matthew over to where his friends stood, watching.

"Matthew, this is Francis and Antonio. The French and Spanish reps. This is Matthew. The Canadian." Matthew gave a little nod and a smile to the older boys.

"Bonjour, Matthew," Greeted Francis. "I can tell from the look on your face that Gilbert's little pick up line did it's job, no?" Seeing Matthew blush, Gilbert gave Francis a death glare.

"Zurück zum Teuful aus." He muttered, only loudly enough for Francis to hear. Francis wasn't offended but he got the message and backed off.

"I haven't seen you before, are you new?" Antonio asked. Matthew nodded, looking slightly confused.

"Isn't everyone here new?" He asked. Antonio shook his head and explained that most of the reps get chosen a few years in a row. Gilbert couldn't tear his eyes from the beauty in front of them everything the blond felt seemed to transfer onto him automatically as h got lost in the pools of violet that were Matthew's eyes. Something about this boy was different, and Gilbert had eight days to get his shit together and figure it out.

* * *

 **A/N: This is probably the best chapter I've ever written. "I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects to not think it probable that I may have committed many errors." That's Hamilton for saying I know I left BMW-sized plot holes in my story, but that's the kind of thing that happens when you write something chapter by chapter and post stuff right after it's done. Learn from my mistakes. This was just one chapter out of a few that are probably going to skim over the important parts from Gilbert's point of view. I'm out of school, which means I can focus more on Spanish, take algebra, get in shape, and start updating weekly again. Once again, thank you for reading my shitty shit and remember to favorite, follow, and review!**


	6. Day Four

**A/N: Surprise update! I always knew my over-detailed floor plans of the hotel would come in handy one day. Also let me know if you'd like to see em.**

* * *

 **Day 4: 151 Hours to Departure**

* * *

 _Gilbert was beautiful. The ashen-haired boy stood before him, all smiles. "I'll remember you always, Matthew. I love you." Gilbert said._

 _Matthew smiled and looked down at his feet. "I love you too, Gil." He tilted his head up, but the boy was gone. A vast nothingness spread out in front of him. "Gil?" He questioned frantically. The boy's voice echoed through the void. He spun around, searching for some sort of sign of where the albino had gone._

" _He left." A voice stated. Matthew spun around to face Alfred who had a bored look on his face. "He went back to Germany."_

 _The Canadian shook his head. Gilbert couldn't have been gone already. He was supposed to have more time. Time to make things right._

" _You know, he probably never even liked you." Said the American. Matthew stared desperately at Alfred, but the other's eyes refused to meet his. "He and his friends are infamous for hitting on everyone. Gilbert just wants to get in your pants. He'll just leave you once the conference is over."_

" _No..." Matthew retorted quietly. This finally seemed to grab Alfred's attention and Matthew was trapped under the accusing gaze of baby-blue eyes._

" _Oh, yeah? How do you know? Has he actually ever told you he loves you?" The boy took a few steps towards the taller blond, and Matthew backed up._

" _He did, just now."_

" _How do you know he meant it? He's a lair. He's no good. Gilbert has never had feelings for you and he **never will.** " Matthew shook his head frantically and covered his ears._

" _Matthew!" Called out a familiar voice. He opened his eyes to see Gilbert, far off in the distance, waving at him._

" _Gil!" The Canadian sprang to his feet and ran towards the boy. He pumped his legs and ran and ran, but it felt like he was running through sand, and while Gilbert seemed to get farther and farther, the taunts of the American became ever the more close._

" _Matthew! Come here! Matthew, Matthew, Matthew!"_

"Matthew!" Matthew shot up in his bed, heart pounding and tears forming in his eyes. The first thing he saw was a shocked Mariano standing in front of him, looking concerned yet horrified. Matthew had his hand clutched over his chest, hair in a mess and eyes frantic.

"Hey, Matthew, dude, are you okay?" The Canadian flinched at the sight of Alfred standing at the side of his bed. _It was just a dream._ He realized. _It was a dream and I'm still here in Belgium and Gilbert's here and everything's okay and- wait, what's going on?_ The two boys had their eyes glued on Matthew as he caught his breath. "You just kept saying "No" over and over again."

Mattie stared at him for a second before nodding that he was okay. "I-It was just a nightmare, I think." Mariano nodded, still looking a bit concerned. He turned back to what he was doing, but Matthew noticed him quickly sign the cross and mutter something under his breath. Matthew realized that they were all in the dark and everything seemed eerily silent. The clock on the side table blinked 1:09 A.M. in glowing red numbers. "Um, care to explain why we're all up at one in the morning?"

The teens were swapping out their pajamas for actual clothes, tossing their dirty garments onto the floor. "Well, one, because you were freaking out." Alfred said, stating the obvious.

"I honestly don't know." Replied Mariano, ignoring Alfred's comment. "This guy came and knocked on the door a few minutes ago telling us to come down A.S.A.P. So that's what we're doing."

Matthew looked at his shorts and T-shirt and decided to just throw on some jeans and comb through his hair with his fingers. He doubted anyone would look that good at one in the morning, and if they did, they probably wouldn't be awake enough to care about Matthew's appearance.

On the elevator, the group of boys was accompanied by a group of girls who apparently had gotten the same message. Matthew recognized the Hungarian representative, Elizaveta, but wasn't sure who the other girls were. One had strawberry-blonde hair and the other had black hair tied up with a braid. Arriving on the first floor, the group walked into the lobby to see a man standing on a table. Surrounding him were many identical boxes and the other representatives.

"Is everyone here?" The man asked. He counted heads around the room before nodding to himself. "Okay! We can start. Welcome, students to our first ever laser-tag competition!" This announcement was greeted by confused murmurs rippling around the room. "I know, I know. This is something we've never done before. But think of it as an exercise in both battle tactics and learning how devastating war can be. You will be divided into groups different than that of your room arrangements so when you hear your home country called, please come to me."

The man began to list off countries and their respective representatives walked to the front of the room. Aside from a few lamps near the man and a bit of light leaking in from outside, the room was nearly pitch-dark. Matthew scanned the room, searching for Gilbert or one of his friends, but it was hard to see the faces of people standing right next to him, much less people across the room.

"The Arctic Circle nations!" The man called out. "The United States of America!" Alfred gave a whoop of excitement before running up to the front, tripping over people sitting on the floor. "Canada!" Matthew watched his feet best as he could as he walked forward, but nonetheless, he still managed to step on someone's hand, earning a loud curse in Italian.

"Sorry, sorry." He said, finally making it to the front.

"Denmark! Iceland! Norway! Sweden! Finland! And Russia!" One by one, the rest of his group joined him at the front. The man leaned down to the to one off the tallest members, Ivan, and gave him a box. The group retreated to a corner of the room, trying to catch some moonlight from a nearby window. Inside the box were eight flashlights, seven sets of black laser tag armor, one set of blue armor, four small black boxes, and seven black laser guns with one blue one to complete the set.

"Okay! Now that everyone has received their supplies, we can go over the rules. Each team has sets of black armor and one set of colored armor. The colored armor will be for the team's king, who will be chosen at the start of the game. The black boxes are sensors that will be sent in one corner of the room of your choice. The goal of the game is to capture another team's king and take them to your team's room. The first team to capture a king will win. The kings can not move outside of their room unless they are captured.

"The laser tag part will be played army style. If you get shot in the leg, you lose that leg, you get shot in the arm, you lose that arm and so on. If you get shot in the torso, you are paralyzed. If you lose all of your limbs you are paralyzed. If you get shot in the head, you are dead. The king's gun can revive everything but head shots. If you are dead, come to the pool. Once all of a team's soldiers are dead, the king can move freely. No physical contact except for capturing kings. And please be careful. Floors 7 and 8 are off limits because that's where you are staying. The game ends at 5:30. You have ten minutes to find a room, choose a king, and get ready starting...now."

The abrupt start caused a mass panic in the lobby. Ivan grabbed the box and ran for the stairs, the rest of the team trailing behind him. "Where are we going?" Shouted Matthias, the Danish rep. The rest of the team immediately shushed him as they scaled three flights of stairs. On the fourth floor, Berwald, the Swedish rep found a large office with a window that led out to a fire escape.

Lukas, the Norwegian, got busy setting up the sensors while Emil, the Icelandic, locked the door. "Okay, guys! We need a game plan." Alfred exclaimed.

Matthew's brain raced. This was going to be one of the weirdest parts of the trip. "Let's pick a king first." He suggested. "What about...him?" Matthew pointed at the Finnish rep, Tino, who shook his head.

"Trust me, you're going to want me out there shooting." He said and Berwald nodded knowingly.

"I vote for Lukas!" Matthias stated.

"Of course _you_ would, you-"

"That'll do just fine." Overruled Ivan. He handed the blue armor, gun, and a flashlight to Lukas who begrudgingly pulled it on. "We'll have someone guard him, too."

"I'll do it." Said the Dane quickly, grabbing armor from the Russian.

"That leaves six of us," Matthew said. "I say we group into twos and split up. Emil and I can go down to the bottom floor." Emil looked a little put-off before nodding.

Alfred shot a nervous glance at Ivan. "I'll go with the Swede."

Matthew was a little shocked to see the nearly six foot tall man act so nervous around the tiny Finn. "Okay, get ready guys." Tino said. Each rep slipped on their armor and grabbed a flashlight and gun, watching their armor glow softly before dying down as the game began. Berwald leaned down to give Tino a little kiss on the cheek, before climbing out onto the fire escape followed by Alfred.

"Can I get a kiss, Lukas?" Pestered Matthias, leaning teasingly close to the other boy.

"You can kiss my ass, Matthias." Lukas shot back, before pushing him out the door. Tino was the next to leave, followed by Ivan, Matthew and finally, Emil. The pairs headed towards the stairs, nodding as they parted ways. Tino and Ivan headed up and Matthew and Emil headed down. The stairway was eerily silent as the two crept precariously down each step, the only sound being their muffled footsteps on the cheap carpet. Emil turned on his flashlight with a little click, pointing it at their feet so they could see where they were going. Arriving on the third floor, each boy took one side of the door and on a silent count of three, Matthew pulled it open. He came nearly face to face with Elizaveta and a small blonde girl. He fired wildly, hearing it hit someone, before grabbing Emil's arm and bolting down the stairs.

Matthew could hear loud footsteps behind, making him speed up, only to nearly run into another boy with black hair. Matthew sidestepped to avoid the boy who instead fired a shot straight into Emil's chest plate, making it give off a little noise, telling him he was hit. In a panic, the Canadian shot the other boy in the chest too before running some more, realizing his pursuers were still after him. He could hear Emil and the black haired boy sit down and laugh about something.

Matthew burst out onto the first floor without checking to see if anyone was there. He ran into the large central atrium that housed many different plants of different sizes. He crouched underneath a bench pushed up against the wall of a large planter. He could hear what sounded like Elizaveta and Vash, the rep from Switzerland, arriving on the tiled first floor. "Where did he go!" Vash whispered angrily.

"I don't see him. Let's go back." Elizaveta replied.

"Do you want to get those guys on the staircase?" Matthew flinched. He was probably terrible for leaving one of his teammates behind.

"No reason to. I doubt anyone would carry them all the way back to their king. It would be too dangerous. Let's just leave them there. They're dating, you know." The duo retreated back up the stairs and Matthew released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Sure it was just a game, but it was more than that. It was war. A superiority contest of sorts. And Matthew wasn't planning on losing. He waited a few seconds before silently emerging from his hideout, shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder and clutching his laser gun like it was a lifeline.

He crept through the atrium, weaving through the plants and benches before coming to a stop when he reached the center. Directly underneath the skylight was a pure white fountain, shooting out a steady stream of water from the top. Matthew was suddenly aware of the sound of the rushing water. It was peaceful and enchanting. He reached out to touch it, but before he could, he heard the sound of rapid footsteps heading towards him and saw a figure moving quickly through the foliage. The boy shot off like a rabbit, darting this way and that to dodge the plants in his way. Matthew didn't know which way the stairs were. The darkness blanketed everything in shadows, and he had no time to turn on his flashlight. He was so focused on getting away from whoever was chasing him that he didn't notice a foot sticking out until it was too late.

Matthew went flying towards the ground, his hands skidding across the cool floor and his armor sliding quickly. He flipped over onto his back, scrambling to get up before a foot was planted firmly on his chest. When Matthew looked up, he saw nothing at first, wondering if this was actually happening or just another dream. But he had no mistake in seeing those fiery red eyes that he knew all too well.

"Hello, Birdie. We meet again."

* * *

 **A/N: Now I want to play laser tag in a dark hotel. Favorite, follow, and review!**


	7. Day Four PtII

**A/N: Hello again! I know, I know, I'm terrible for missing like, what? Three? Four update days? I lost count and I'm not proud of it, but as an apology, here's a pretty good, fun chapter.**

* * *

 **Day 4: 154 Hours to Departure**

* * *

Gilbert was the only one awake when the man came to the door. Despite his best efforts, he had been drowning in his thoughts all night. Nothing seemed to be able to quell the buzzing in his mind. Was he in love with Matthew? The only real love he had ever experienced was love for his family. And he was pretty sure that wasn't the same thing. Never before had he had trouble falling asleep because he couldn't stop thinking. Critical thinking was usually something he was able to switch on and off easily, but ever since that stupid blond Canadian showed up, his brain had been plunged into hyper-drive. He over-analyzed every little smile, every word, every action. Everything meant something, and most of those somethings were bound to be bad.

In an attempt to escape his detrimental state of mind, Gilbert had thrown on a jacked and gone walking out on the streets of Antwerp some time around midnight. Despite it being a Thursday night the streets were still lined with tourists of all ages and nationalities. Unlike Gilbert, everyone seemed so sure of themselves. Everyone had a destination and a way to get there. All the while Gilbert was stuck in the middle of nowhere without a map or even a road to follow.

He walked around aimlessly for half an hour, before returning to his hotel room to think in silence. Around one am, a man Gilbert recognized as the organization's president knocked on his door and called for all reps to report downstairs. He woke up Antonio and then Francis, who seemed more than a little put-off at being woken up so early. Gilbert hadn't ever changed out of his clothes, so he waited for his friends to get ready before taking an elevator with them downstairs.

The first floor looked a little creepy in the dark. The green foliage cast eerie shadows across the floor and the only sound to be heard was soft murmuring coming from the lobby. By the time that the trio arrived, everyone else seemed to already be there. It was hard to make out faces in the dim light, but Gilbert thought he saw Matthew standing with the Nordic reps, the Russian, and the American.

"The ancient nations!" The organization president shouted out from the table he stood on. "China! Turkey! Greece! Egypt! The Italians!" Each of the respective representatives stood up and walked to the front of the room. "Prussia!" Gilbert gave a little goodbye wave to his friends before joining his group members who were rummaging through a large box.

"What is it?" The albino asked.

"Laser tag equipment." Replied Sadiq, the Turkish rep. The president resumed his speech from behind them.

"So who should be our king? We should keep the most athletic ones out on the field." Yao, the Chinese rep, suggested.

"I'll do it!" Offered Feliciano, one of the Italians. "I don't want to shoot anyone."

"Get your equipment on then." Fired back Lovino, his brother. Prussia looked at the rest of his group. Including himself, Heracles from Greece, and Gupta from Egypt, they had seven members.

"You have ten minutes to find a room, choose a king, and get ready starting...now!" The president exclaimed. In a brief moment of panic, Gilbert snatched up their box and started running, motioning for his team to follow. His feet pounded across the tile as he raced towards what he remembered as an empty conference room. He threw open the door and busted inside. The rest of the team followed suit and began setting up.

"Ready, guys? Let's do this!" Gil exclaimed eagerly.

"Hold it, dick cheese!" Lovino said, sticking his arm out and stopping the boy. "We need a plan, idiot!"

"Lovino's right!" Defended Feliciano. "If you go out there with no plan, you would all get shot right away."

"What if we split up?" Heracles offered.

"No! That's just what they'd expect us to do." Sadiq claimed. "If we all hide out on this floor, we can shoot down anyone that comes close."

"Then how will we get a king, dumbass?"

"We'll have three people down here and three people going out to capture a king." Yao declared. "Sadiq, Gupta, and I can go up and Lovino, Gilbert, and Heracles will stay down here. Sound good?" The room answered with agreement and the nations all headed out with Gilbert and Heracles each taking one side of the atrium and Lovino guarding the door. Gilbert watch his gear give off a faint glow as the game began. He wandered through the various potted plants in the atrium, turning in slow, silent circles, always on guard.

Without warning, the door to the stairwell burst open, a figure rushing out of it. Gilbert quickly darted behind a plant and watched as the figure scrambled to hide underneath a bench. From the stairwell stepped out Elizaveta and Vash, apparently looking for whoever was hiding. Once the two retreated back up the stairs, the person emerged quietly from beneath the bench. Gilbert couldn't believe his luck when he saw the glasses-framed lilac eyes and the wavy blonde hair that he loved so much.

Matthew had a death grip on his laser gun and crept around like a little deer, frightened of the wolves that could be hiding in the greenery around him. Gilbert followed silently behind him with a smile splayed across his pale skin. He stopped when he saw Matthew standing in front of the central fountain. Full moons were said to bring out werewolves who would go and feast on innocent passerby. Was it possible it affected albinos too? Gilbert didn't know. All he knew at that moment was that being bathed in moonlight made Matthew all the more irresistible.

He raced towards the boy who immediately heard his footsteps and started running in the opposite direction. He followed the boy to the edge of the atrium when Matthew suddenly tripped and skidded across the tile. Gilbert caught up to the fallen Canadian who tried to flip himself over and run but was trapped when Gilbert set his foot upon the other's chest. His mind raced, He was an idiot! Matthew was sure to hate him now. But he could play it off, right? His mouth went ahead of his mind and he spoke the absolute most cheesy line possible. "Hello, Birdie. We meet again."

"G-Gilbert?" Matthew stuttered. Gilbert's face burned with heat and he thanked God that he was in the dark where Mattie couldn't see him blush. The Prussian looked behind him and saw Heracles asleep on a bench with his foot sticking out. That must've been what tripped him. Without thinking, Gil quickly fired a shot into each of Matthew's legs, rendering them useless. "Dammit." He uttered weakly. Gilbert picked up the boy's laser gun before scooping the other up, bridal style and rushing them into a closet.

"Gilbert, what are you doing?" Matthew asked. The storage closet was roomy and mostly empty, a few boxes taking up one corner. The albino set him down gently on the floor before locking the door. Matthew's heart raced and he squinted his eyes in the dark room. Aside from the little amount of light that filtered in from underneath the door, the closet was pitch-black.

Gilbert had no idea what he was doing. He internally yelled at himself for getting into something he knew he couldn't get out of. The long inner monologues of before were all gone, replaced by an endless string of every curse word he knew. He looked at the blonde on the floor, hair spread out in a halo around his head and moth slightly agape. He knew he was an idiot for what he was about to do but he went ahead with it anyways.

Gilbert lowered himself to the floor and placed a knee on either side of Matthew's hips, staring intently at the boy beneath him before placing a hand softly on the side of his face and connecting their lips in a soft kiss. When Matthew kissed back, any and all of his thoughts raced out, flooded by a hazy wave of passion. Matthew couldn't resist kissing the boy back. His warmth was compelling and comforting in the otherwise cold night.

Their laser tag gear made small noises as they collided but the two boys couldn't care less. They were the only ones in existence. The closet (haha) was their universe and they became one in another. The kiss quickly became more heated and rushed, as if each of them were trying to soak up as much of the other as possible. Gilbert ground his hips down into Matthew's and he let out a soft moan into his mouth. Matthew's hands came up and tangled in ashen hair as Gilbert's hands ran up and down Matthew's body. He slid his warm hands underneath his thin shirt and ground hid hips down once more before breaking the kiss.

"That's just a taste of what you'll get later. After I win." Gilbert said with a smirk. He stood up picking up Matthew and their guns.

"You mean after _I win_." Matthew shot back with the same look. Gilbert chuckled before setting him next to the bench where Heracles was asleep.

"Hey, dude," Gilbert said, shaking Heracles. The boy slowly picked his head up, looking confused. Gil gave Heracles Matthew's gun and pointed to the boy on the floor. "Keep an eye on this one, okay?" Heracles nodded and he ran off towards the stairwell. He ran past the second floor, knowing that both Vash and Elizaveta were great shooters, instead poking his head through the door of the third floor. Matthias stood, with his back turned, and Gilbert decided he was as good as a target as anyone. He aimed his laser and fired into the Dane's headgear.

"What!? Gilbert?" Matthias exclaimed, spinning around. "Damn." Gilbert laughed a bit before running though the door behind him. Inside the small office, Lukas sat on top of a desk, eyes wide.

"You are coming with me, little man." Gilbert said, picking up the Norwegian and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Little?! I'm only an inch shorter than you!" Lukas defended.

"Yeah, whatever." Gilbert replied, carrying the boy out the room and down the stairs.

"Stupid, Dane." Lukas muttered, rolling his eyes and smiling. Gilbert did his best to make no noise as he passed the second floor, but carrying someone almost his size wasn't exactly easy. He sprang out onto the first floor and ran for the conference room, almost tasting the victory. Before he knew what was coming, something shot out across the floor and tripped him, sending him and Lukas into a pile of bruises and swearing.

Matthew smiled at the albino that lay sprawled across the cold floor. Gilbert's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he realized he had tripped over Matthew's stretched out figure. "W-What? But how? I-I..." Gilbert stuttered. Matthew smirked.

He held up one finger. "Heracles has a habit of falling asleep easily. And two," He held up a second finger, "There's this thing called army crawling that helps you get around when you can't use your legs. Lukas!" Understanding the signal, Lukas fired shots into each of Matthew's legs, healing them and letting him stand up. Matthew shot Gilbert's headpiece and gave a look of fake sympathy as he picked up the Norwegian and slung him over his shoulder.

"Do you think you could carry two people, Matthew?" Lukas asked. Matthew glanced over to what was obviously the other team's base, guarded only by Lovino. He was absolutely sure Feliciano would be the one waiting inside. He nodded at the other boy and set his softly down onto a bench before creeping forward silently to get a better shot. The brunet looked extremely bored, lazily swiveling his head from side to side, looking for possible attackers. Matthew ducked behind a plant and was sure the boy saw him, but once Lovino looked away, he knew it was the time to take his shot.

Matthew's gun gave off a flash of light as he hit Lovino in the side of the head. "Wha-" Before Lovino could even finish his though, Matthew pushed him aside and ran into the room, greeted by the face of a frightened Italian. He wasted no time picking the other up softly and placing him over his shoulder before carrying him out and running in the direction of the bench he left Lukas on. "Goddamnit!" Came a loud curse from behind him, but Matthew could care less at the moment. He grabbed Lukas and ran for the stairwell.

Adrenaline was really one hell of a drug. He pushed himself forward, racing up the steep flight of stairs. As he passed the second floor, a shot rang out and Vash And Elizaveta's voices could be heard yelling. Matthew picked up his speed as he heard rapid footsteps from behind him. He threw open the door and panicked as he realized how exposed he would be. The Canadian ran like hell, he looked over his shoulder to catch a glance of Vash aiming his gun. He was able to swivel his body just in time for Feliciano to act as a human shield and thanked Lukas for convincing him to take the Italian.

He was footsteps from the base when he dropped Lukas, making sure not to hurt him, but freeing up his hands to open the door and throw himself and Feliciano inside. The little boxes in the corners of the room lit up in green and let off little victory sounds. Matthew set Feliciano down before whooping and hollering in delight. "Haha! We won, Lukas!" The other blond smiled softly and held up his fist in a lazy celebration. The armor and guns responded with a mechanical voice telling them the game was over and the blue team had won.

Feliciano looked down in defeat and Matthew gave a him a little look of sympathy. "Hey," he said, holding out his hand. "Good game." The Italian took his hand and smiled, letting Matthew pull him to his feet.

"Good game, amico." Feliciano replied with a little laugh. He put his arm around the taller boy and started walking. Matthew stared down at the other in surprise. Was everyone this casual with physical contact? As he exited the room, he attempted to put an arm around Lukas in the same manner, but the teen flinched the second he made contact.

"Don't touch me." Apparently not everyone was that comfortable with it. At the end of the hall, Vash and Elizaveta had visibly relaxed, Elizaveta smiling and Vash with a neutral expression. Matthew wasn't sure he had ever seen him smile. Maybe to the rep from Liechtenstein.

"Hey guys! Nice job, Matt! I wouldn't say I exactly approve of using Feli as a meat shield, but it was a good move." Elizaveta expressed through a laugh. Matthew chuckled nervously and scrated the scruff of his neck.

"Yeah, sorry about that Feliciano." Elizaveta patted Matt's shoulder and the remaining reps followed them downstairs to the lobby. When they arrived, most of the lights in the lobby had been turned on, giving the place a much different atmosphere than the tense excitement of the game. Matthew and Lukas joined the rest of their teammates at the front of the room. Each of them grew bright smiles when they saw them and Matthew was greeted by hugs and encouraging pats on the back.

"Congratulations to our blue team for winning the game and capturing the red team's king!" The organization president exclaimed, once again having taken a place on top of a coffee table. "As a prize, the winning team gets free drinks at club Red & Blue tonight! No alcohol for anyone under 16, though." Emil sighed and rolled his eyes. "Every rep is invited! Now, take a day to rest up and get ready for a night of fun."

Matthew looked around at the tired yet happy faces of his teammates as they swapped information about the game. The sun had just barely started to peek over the buildings of the city and cast its rays on the waking people. From what he could tell, everyone's plan was to catch up on their lost hours of sleep before anything else. He smiled softly as he thought about the night. It was something he would probably never forget. And Matthew had five days to make as many wonderful memories as possible.

* * *

 **A/N: Red & Blue is a gay night club. :) Also, the legal drinking age in Belgium is 16. Should I write some smut for it? ,';) Maybe… Annyywayyys, thank you again for reading! I'm terrible for not updating. I'll upload the floor plans of the hotel on my tumblr, platinumcynic. Rate, review, and follow!**


End file.
